Author.  “I remained to witness the cathedral service for the return of Wucics and Petronievitch.  I assure you I was struck with the solemnity of the scene, and the deportment of the archbishop.  As I do not understand enough of Servian, his speech was translated to me word for word, and it seems to me that he has the four requisites of an orator,—­a commanding presence, a pleasing voice, good thoughts, and good language.”

We then talked of education, on which the Bishop said, “The civil and ecclesiastical authorities go hand in hand in the work.  When I was a young man, a great proportion of the youth could neither read nor write:  thanks to our system of national education, in a few years the peasantry will all read.  In the towns the sons of those inhabitants who are in easy circumstances, are all learning German, history, and other branches preparatory to the course of the Gymnasium of Belgrade, which is the germ of a university.”

Author.  “I hope it will prosper; the Slaavs of the middle ages did much for science."[4]

Bishop.  “I assure you times are greatly changed with us; the general desire for education surprises and delights me.”

We now took our leave of the Bishop, and on our way homewards called at a house which contained portraits of Kara Georg, Milosh, Michael, Alexander, and other personages who have figured in Servian history.  I was much amused with that of Milosh, which was painted in oil, altogether without chiaro scuro; but his decorations, button holes, and even a large mole on his cheek, were done with the most painful minuteness.  In his left hand he held a scroll, on which was inscribed Ustav, or Constitution, his right hand was partly doubled a la finger post; it pointed significantly to the said scroll, the forefinger being adorned with a large diamond ring.

On arriving at the collector’s house, I found the Aga awaiting me.  This man inspired me with great interest.  I looked upon him, residing in his lone tower, the last of a once wealthy and powerful race now steeped in poverty, as a sort of master of Ravenswood in a Wolf’s crag.  At first he was bland and ceremonious; but on learning that I had lived long in the interior of society in Damascus and Aleppo, and finding that the interest with which he inspired me was real and not assumed, he became expansive without lapsing into familiarity, and told me his sad tale, which I would place at the service of the gentle reader, could I forget the stronger allegiance I owe to the unsolicited confidence of an unfortunate stranger.

When I spoke of the renegade, he pretended not to know whom I meant; but I saw, by a slight unconscious wink of his eye, that knowing him too well, he wished to see and hear no more of him.  As he was rising to take leave, a step was heard creaking on the stairs, and on turning in the direction of the door, I saw the red and white checked turban of the renegade emerging from the banister; but no sooner did he perceive the Aga, than, turning round again, down went the red checked turban out of sight.